


Closure

by LibraryMage



Series: Break Your Chains [35]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Autistic Ezra Bridger, Ezra gets some closure, Ezra has a lot of complicated feelings, Father-Son Relationship, Found Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Character Death, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 08:38:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16238027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibraryMage/pseuds/LibraryMage
Summary: When the war is finally over and the Empire has fallen, Ezra returns to a place he didn't think he cared about.





	Closure

**Author's Note:**

> warning for: references to child abuse and past character death

Ezra paced back and forth, stopping every so often to glance at the seemingly unremarkable patch of grass before resuming his trek.

“Why am I even here?” he asked himself for what felt like the millionth time.  He still had no answer.

It had been nine years since that night when he’d followed Kanan back to the _Ghost_ for the first time, and six years since he’d buried Maul here in an unmarked grave on the plains of Lothal.

With a small sigh, Ezra sank to his knees beside the grave, trying to center himself like Kanan kept telling him to.  But whatever sense of calm Ezra managed to find was quickly drowned out by anger and grief and bitter resentment as he reminded himself of everything that had brought him here.  He should be able to visit the grave of one of the people who’d raised him without wondering if there was something wrong with him for doing it, but he couldn’t.  Just being here dredged up the memories of that night on Tatooine, the night he’d killed Maul in a desperate attempt to save his family from someone he used to look up to.  What right did he even have to be here after doing that?

But Ezra knew that if he never came back to this place, no one else would.

“We won,” Ezra said, his voice hollow as he plucked a piece of grass from the ground beside him and twisted it between his fingers.  “It’s over.  The Empire is gone, or it will be, once we’ve taken out the factions that are still holding on.  But the Sith are gone.  Sidious is gone.  I didn’t do it, but he’s dead.  I just -- I thought you should know.”

He sighed with frustration, dropping the blade of grass to the ground.

“What am I _doing?_ ” he asked.  “You’re not even here.  And what do I care if you know, anyway?”

Of course there was no response, not even from inside Ezra’s own head.  He didn’t know why he cared, or if he even really did.

“I tried,” he muttered.  “I was there, with him.  He was on the _Chimaera_ and I tried to kill him.  He nearly killed me, but I tried.  For you.”

It had taken Ezra so long to accept the fact that he had, at least in part, been fighting for Maul that day.  Ezra hated the Empire for what it had done to his parents and his home, but also for what had been done to Maul.  He hated that he felt that way, but he couldn’t help it.  When Maul had first taken him in, when Ezra had learned about his past in the fragments he let slip or chose to share, Ezra had felt his pain.  Now, years removed from it all, Ezra couldn’t help but wonder if Maul had realized his talent for connection and had been taking advantage of it to draw Ezra closer to the dark side.  But even if that _was_ true, Ezra knew there was more to it than that.  Maul hadn't just been searching for an apprentice.  He’d been trying to get back what he’d lost long before Ezra was even born.

Just thinking about it made Ezra’s blood boil.  There had been times that Ezra knew Maul truly cared about him in whatever way he was able to, but that hadn't been enough to stop him from hurting Ezra.  Maul had been as desperate for family as Ezra had been, but he’d still abused, tortured, and terrified Ezra until he’d run to the first stranger who’d reached out.  He’d still left Ezra with scars, both mental and physical, that would never heal no matter how much time passed.

Ezra stared blankly at the ground in front of him, going back and forth between trying to sort through what he wanted to say and wondering why he wanted to say anything at all.

“I still have nightmares,” he said, the words coming out through gritted teeth, like they were being pulled from his throat.  “Almost every night.  About _you_ , hurting me or my family.  There are days no one can even touch me.  And you did this to me!”

Ezra’s voice broke, his hands curling into fists on his lap, his nails biting into his palms hard enough to draw blood.

“You always said you had to make me stronger,” Ezra said, “and you thought that hurting me was the way to do it.  And I guess I can’t blame you for thinking that, not with how you were raised.  But I can still hate you for it.  And I will, until the day I die.”

He sighed again, running a hand through his hair and letting his nails dig into his scalp.

“I almost wish I hadn't killed you so I could say this to your face,” he muttered, his voice bitter.

Ezra felt something tighten in his throat.  He’d never say it out loud, but sometimes he almost wished he hadn’t killed Maul just so that he would still be alive.  He hated the fact that after all these years, he still felt guilty about it.  He’d _needed_ to do it.  There was no other way out, no other way to protect himself and his family, but that hadn't made it an easy choice, and it didn’t erase the guilt and regret and the crushing sense of unfairness that had haunted Ezra since that night.  For years, Maul had been the closest thing Ezra had to family, to a father, but that didn’t make Ezra hate him any less.  If anything, it made Ezra hate Maul even more.  Fathers weren’t supposed to hurt their children.  They weren’t supposed to betray their children’s trust.  But Maul had, and he’d done so in a way that had forced Ezra to make an impossible choice.

Just thinking about it brought tears stinging at Ezra’s eyes.  He gritted his teeth and stood up abruptly.

“I will never forgive you,” he said, his voice a low, furious growl.  “And I will _never_ be like you.”

He turned away from the grave and began to walk away, clenching his fists at his sides and mentally ordering himself not to look back, not that there was anyone to see if he did.  He fixed his eyes on the gray blur in the distance that he knew to be the _Ghost_.  His _real_ family was there, waiting for him to come back.

* * *

 

Ezra had hoped to quietly slip back onto the ship and find a place to hide, but he found Kanan in the galley, apparently waiting for him.  Ezra froze as he entered the room, half-considering just turning around and leaving before Kanan could say a word.  His shoulders slumped as he decided against it.

“So, you make your peace?” Kanan asked him.

_Peace is a lie, there is only passion._

“No,” Ezra said, crossing the room and sitting down beside Kanan.  “Not sure I ever will.”

“Are you alright?” Kanan asked.

“I don’t know,” Ezra said, his voice breaking.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Ezra was surprised to realize that the answer was yes.  He wanted to tell Kanan everything, and he had no idea where to start.

“I told him -- I mean, I didn’t tell him anything, really,” Ezra said.  “I know he’s not…”

“I know what you mean,” Kanan said, putting his arm around Ezra’s shoulders.

“I told him I was still -- that I’m still having nightmares,” Ezra said, “and that I’m having days when I can't be touched or be around anyone.  And I -- I know he’s not there, but if he was, I don’t understand why I’d even want him to know that.”

“Well,” Kanan said.  “It _is_ because of him.”

Ezra shrugged.  Maybe that really was all there was to it.

“Ezra,” Kanan said, “what is it, really?”

Ezra felt his jaw begin to tremble and gritted his teeth tightly for a moment, trying to make the involuntary movement stop.  When he was satisfied that he had control again, he spoke, the words coming out slowly as he tried to keep his voice from shaking.

“It’s just that I thought -- you got better,” he said.  “Maybe not all the way, but you got _better_.  And no matter how hard I try, I haven’t been able to.  Why did it happen for you and not for me?”

“I don’t know, Ezra,” Kanan said, his arm briefly tightening around Ezra’s shoulders.  “I wish I did, but…maybe because as bad as things got for me, I wasn’t trapped in an abusive situation adding more trauma every day.  Maybe I just got lucky.”

“But what if I never get better?” Ezra asked.

He knew he wouldn’t.  He’d escaped Maul for the first time nearly a decade ago now, and almost nothing had changed.  In so many ways, he was still the terrified, battered teenage boy that Kanan had led back to the _Ghost_.  In others, he was still the abandoned, affection-starved child Maul had cornered in an alley.  Part of him almost didn’t care, but a much louder part that, after all this time, was still afraid that one day Kanan would decide it had been long enough, and would punish Ezra for being weak, or just abandon him altogether.

“Then you don’t,” Kanan said.  “That doesn’t change anything.  You’re still a good person, and we all still love you.  That’s what’s important, not whether you ever stop having nightmares or getting scared when people touch you.”

Ezra stared down at his hands, which were twisting together in his lap.  Kanan said that _now_ , but what if things changed?

“I didn’t want to have to kill him,” Ezra said quietly.  “But sometimes it’s like I thought doing it would…fix me.  I don’t know why I even would have thought that, but I just expected _something_ would change.  He’s been dead for six years.  I _know_ he can't hurt me anymore and I don’t know why I still feel like this.”

“There’s nothing about you that needs to be fixed,” Kanan said.  “There never was.”

Ezra said nothing, not knowing whether he could believe that or not.

“These kinds of things take time to fade,” Kanan said, “if they fade at all.  Sometimes they never do.  But even if you’re still afraid, you said it yourself, you _know_ he can't hurt you anymore.  That’s what matters.  He can never lay a hand on you again, and he can never take you away from us.”

Ezra nodded, trying to focus on Kanan’s words.  It was true.  No matter how bad things got, no matter how many nights in a row Ezra woke up screaming or crying, Maul would never be able to come near him again.  Maul would never hit him, throw him to the ground, or threaten him again.  Maul would never hurt anyone he loved or force him to hurt someone else again.

Ezra was able to take some small amount of comfort in that knowledge, but as he focused on what Kanan had said, another doubt crept into his mind, taking hold before he even realized it was there.

“Kanan?” he said.  “How am I supposed to be a good Jedi if I can't let go of my anger at him?”

“We aren’t supposed to let our emotions drive our actions,” Kanan reminded him.  “That doesn’t mean we can't feel.  He spent years abusing you.  He used everything you lost to turn you to the dark side when you were just a little kid.  I’d be worried if you weren’t angry at him.”

Ezra was silent once again.  Sometimes the things Kanan said about Maul made Ezra wonder if he was speaking as a Jedi or as a parent, and sometimes when it came to Maul, Ezra was pretty sure there was no difference.

“Even if you let go of your anger one day,” Kanan said, “that doesn’t mean you have to forgive him.”

“Good,” Ezra said, the word coming out far more harshly than he’d meant it to.  “Because I never will.”

“I can't say I blame you,” Kanan said.

“I -- there’s so much I’ve never told you,” Ezra said, his voice beginning to shake.  “So much I’ve never told _anyone_.  I trusted him and he -- he hurt me so much.”

“I know,” Kanan said, his hand moving from Ezra’s shoulder and gently running across his hair as Ezra leaned against his side.  “And you never have to tell me anything you don’t want to.  You know that, right?”

“Yes,” Ezra said, the word catching in his throat before he fell silent again.  For a moment, he just sat there, drawing comfort from Kanan’s touch, letting himself accept it without saying a word.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m too old for this,” he said quietly, almost embarrassed to admit that he craved the affection he got from Kanan even though he knew for a fact Kanan knew that already.

“You’ll never be too old, Ezra,” Kanan said.  “And I’ll always be here when you need me.”

Ezra hugged Kanan around the middle, smiling as he curled up against his side.

“Thanks, Dad.”


End file.
